


The dark night exists for me

by cassiem



Category: Block B
Genre: Daddy Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 19:12:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4799093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiem/pseuds/cassiem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yin and yang, light and dark, big and small: Taeil and Jihoon</p>
            </blockquote>





	The dark night exists for me

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: the experienced Taeil introduces p.o to the "daddy kink", but pyo just can't and turns into a giggly and awkward mess, so Taeil ends up dominating him instead

_I can’t see you in this darkness_  
_Will you take my hand and be with me?_  
_I really wanna know_  
_If you want me, tell me out loud_

_Dark Panda - Zico & PaloAlto & Hyorin _

 

 

Jihoon accosts him the moment he walks in the dorm door, late after having dinner with Yukwon and Sunhye (who had held hands the whole night, leaving a bitter taste in Taeil’s mouth – jealousy is unbecoming, he knows, but he can’t help it).

“Mmph.” The younger man gasps against his mouth as he paws at Taeil, big hands everywhere at once.

“Jihoon.” Taeil whispers, pushing him away gently. “Come on.”

Jihoon steps back and cocks his head, eyes narrowed. “I hate when you use that tone of voice with me.”

Taeil rolls his eyes. He’s tired, he’s had a long day – and if he’s honest, the dinner was the cherry on top of it all. He’s not in the mood for the way Jihoon gets late at night – needy and desperate – and even if he loves the younger man, which he does, he’s just not up for it tonight.

He shoulders past Jihoon and heads to his room, not bothering to be quiet – Kyung isn’t home tonight, so he has the room to himself, which, with the mood he’s in, is definitely a good thing. Ignoring Jihoon trailing him like a shadow, he strips off his shirt and pulls on his soft cotton sleep shirt, relaxing into the familiar smell.

Then Jihoon’s arms circle around his waist, gripping like a vice, and he sighs, turning and raising his face to the other man, who is looking down at him with a dark, unreadable expression.

“I hate when you get in these moods.” He mutters, himself an echo of Taeil’s very thoughts in the hallway, which makes him feel slightly guilty. “You never tell me anything.”

Taeil exhales noisily and leans into Jihoon, absorbing his warmth. “I’m sorry. It’s…”

He pulls away again, aware of the way his skin feels prickly. He _hates_ talking about this, hates being reminded of who he is, what he can’t be – he hasn’t quite reached a level of self-acceptance yet.

“I was out at dinner with Yukwon and Sunhye. It was nice, I had fun, but they were holding hands and being affectionate all night.” He curls his lip in disgust. “It hurts to know we can never have that.”

Jihoon doesn’t say anything, knows better than to break the silence that settles around them like a blanket. Instead he reaches down and grasps Taeil’s hand, brings it up to his lips and kisses every single knuckle, his eyes speaking an apology that he doesn’t have to vocalise.

Taeil smiles. “It’s okay. I’ll get over it.” He flops down onto the bed and spreads his arms. “Come here.”

Instead of curling into his side, like he expects, Jihoon crawls over the top of him, hands braced either side of his shoulders, voice throaty and deep as he growls. “I’ve got a better idea.”

Despite his bad mood, the vision of this – Jihoon leering over him, looking at him like _that_ , lust pouring off him in waves – makes his pulse quicken, and as Jihoon pins his wrists back onto the bed, he arches up involuntarily. Jihoon has _never_ taken the lead before, it’s always been Taeil guiding him, but this newfound dominance is not unwelcome.

“Jihoon.” He moans, his voice cracking on the last syllable, barely recognisable.

The younger man doesn’t respond, only nips Taeil’s neck, teeth grazing a pulsing vein, one hand traveling down to run his fingers over Taeil’s hips, teasingly.

He feels like he’s going to explode, right here and now – this is something he’s known he wanted for a long time, but was too shy to bring up. Jihoon was so – so _naïve_  sometimes, so innocent, that he didn’t want to ruin it by bringing power play into their relationship. But no moment like the present, right?

“Fucking – Jihoon –” He groans, arching upward furiously, glaring at Jihoon’s glittering eyes. “Please. Let me – let me call you daddy.”

Jihoon’s hand stills, and he rears backwards, peering down at Taeil. “What?”

 _Fuck_. “I – I just –”

But nothing can change the way Jihoon sits back, a smile cracking his face in two. “You can’t be serious, hyung?” He laughs, hand clapped over his mouth.

Taeil closes his eyes, wishes the ground would eat him up and swallow him whole, that he could just disappear backwards into the mattress. He shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have said that – what is Jihoon _thinking_ about him right now? His brain goes into damage control mode, and he flips Jihoon off him with a twist of his hips, gets up and prepares to flee – _where? This is your room_ – when Jihoon catches his wrist, his big hand encircling it entirely.

“Wait – you weren’t serious, were you?” Jihoon smiles up at him, that smile slowly fading as he reaches Taeil’s eyes. “Were you?”

Taeil doesn’t say anything, just juts his chin. He’s not used to being this off-balance – in fact, he crafts everything just _so_ as to never be off balance (never showing too much affection for the others lest it be misconstrued, never promoting his solo song so he wouldn’t have to be alone on stage, never meeting Jihoon’s father despite his insistence), so this is new. He doesn’t like it.

Jihoon jumps up, face falling as he realises what he’s done. “I’m so, so sorry, hyung, I thought you were joking, of course you can call me daddy if you want to, you know I’d do anything for you–”

Taeil lets him go on and on, the meaningless sentiments angering him suddenly. He whirls and grabs Jihoon by the collar, pressing their faces close together. “Just forget it.” He whines. “Help me forget it.”

Jihoon’s eyes widen, unsure of what Taeil’s doing now – but his pupils dilate anyway, and his hand automatically rests on Taeil’s hip.

“No.” Taeil growls, burying closer, so he’s staring up at the younger man, fury giving way to unbridled lust at being this close to Jihoon. “Like this.”

And Taeil shoves him backward, watching as Jihoon hits the bed, watches his eyes as he crawls on top of him, an exact mirror of a few moments earlier – they’re just copying each other tonight, aren’t they? – and bends his head to nip at Jihoon’s neck. Jihoon reaches for him, but he slaps his hand away, watches Jihoon bite his lower lip as he reaches over his head and pulls off his shirt.

“Is this okay?” He asks, breaking the illusion for a second – enough to see Jihoon nod, enough for Jihoon to reach for him again, enough for Taeil to pin his hand to the bed and bite him on the neck again.

It’s not been like this before. Sex between them was always equal, pushing and pulling, giving and receiving – but it was careful. Passionate, yes, but there was always an underlying current of caution – Jihoon pulling back if he thought he’d pulled Taeil’s hair too hard, Taeil worrying about Jihoon’s boundaries. There’s none of this now, though, as he pulls Jihoon up to a sitting position to rip off his shirt. He _likes_ it.

Immediately, once Jihoon is shirtless, he runs his hands down the length of Jihoon’s pale chest, observing the way it looks compared to him. Jihoon is lean and skinny, whereas he’s like a stocky block of muscle. When they come together, it’s like yin and yang, the mixing and blending, muscle and sinew straining and heaving.

He reaches down and runs his hand over the bulge in Jihoon’s pants, feels the younger man shudder with pleasure, and grins. He quickly undoes the fly and reaches inside Jihoon’s (monkey-patterned) boxers, grasps the hot mass of Jihoon’s cock.

It was awkward at first, learning to jerk off someone that isn’t yourself – the odd feeling of touching the same equipment, but without the distraction of a straight shot of pleasure, was hard to get used to – but they had soon found a rhythm, and Taeil settles into it now, slapping away Jihoon’s hands whenever he tries to touch him, twisting his wrist cruelly, enjoying watching the younger man gasp and buck.

“Hyung – fuck –” Jihoon moans, his voice growing even _deeper_ than usual, and it hasn’t even been that long but Taeil can tell he’s close.

So he pulls back, ignoring the way Jihoon hisses, and tweaks his nipple instead, watching it grow hard with a smile. “Do you want me to keep touching you, Jihoon?”

Jihoon glares at him, but he’s too turned on to be angry, really. “Please.” He rasps, eyes narrowed.

Maybe – just maybe – he’s trying to chase away the awkward memory of before, maybe he’s trying to forget that stupid fucking dinner, the way Sunhye had leaned into Yukwon – god _damn_ it – but whatever it is, he’s filled with a need to see Jihoon come undone, lose it all for him, so he resumes stroking, starts pulling the younger man’s hair, too.

Jihoon comes all at once, with no warning, just an empty, wordless cry, cum spilling all over his chest. Taeil strokes him through it, through the aftershocks and twitches, and waits for Jihoon to swim back to the surface of his mind.

The younger man blinks blearily, his hand coming up to stroke Taeil’s face. “What was that?”

Taeil shrugs. “I thought we’d try something different.”

Jihoon smiles – a slow, predatory smile that stretches his face in two, showing all his teeth – and without warning, flips Taeil over, onto the bed, and presses his big body against him. “Oh yeah?” He whispers, hand moving over Taeil’s ribcage. “Then I guess it’s my turn.”

Taeil shivers, immediately allowing himself to be pinned down, enjoying the feeling of restraint. Jihoon looks at him and deliberately licks his lips, smirking cooly.

“Oh, and hyung?”

Taeil doesn’t respond, juts his chin in defiance to Jihoon.

Jihoon just continues smirking, like he knows the effects of the words he’s about to say.

“Call me daddy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who's back? Back again? Cassiem's back, tell a friend~
> 
> So yeah, I'm back, (WITH ANOTHER DADDY FIC GOD) and what looked like a simple prompt on the surface turned out to be quite difficult (maybe because I haven't written in months? I don't know). Turns out, Taeil and Jihoon flip-flopping on dom/sub position is not something that comes easily to me, hahaha. This could have just been PWP but stupid me had to insert a subplot in there anyway... I hope you enjoyed it regardless (of both the subplot, and of my obvious rustiness)!
> 
> Oh, and if you yourself are interested in sending me a prompt, simply click [here](http://jihooon-fanfics.tumblr.com) and I can make all your dreams come true (only, of course, if your dreams involve me writing Block B fanfiction... come to think of it, that would be a pretty odd dream)...


End file.
